Coming to an Understanding
by Rairakku Hana
Summary: There were always repercussions for one's careless actions. And for Orihime, it was time to pay the piper, or in her case, the angry death god.


**Coming to an Understanding**

Bleach; Ichihime flash fic

Word count: 2326

Warnings: M; adult situations, cursing

Disclaimer: all characters herein are the property of Kubo Tite.

**~o0o~**

"What the hell were you thinking?"

Orihime jerked her head to the side as his voice boomed like thunder through the dark alley. She warily watched Ichigo sheath Zangetsu on his back with the ease of long practice. He turned and pinned her in place with a glare, his mouth held in a tight line and angry emotions glittered in his dark eyes.

Uh oh, time to pay the piper.

His nostrils flared with each step he took. Her heart tripped painfully in her chest as he advanced on her, crowding her backwards until her shoulders met unyielding concrete. Ichigo planted his hands on either side of her head and leaned in, invading her personal space without compunction.

"Were you trying to get yourself killed, Inoue?"

She eyed the arms caging her in with trepidation and automatically sought to reassure him. "It's all right. I'm fine."

"You're fine?"

Ok, maybe that was the wrong thing to say. Orihime frowned, clearly hearing the sharp edge of irritation in his tone. She fidgeted at Ichigo's intimidating proximity and looked down the dark alley, unable to hold his fierce gaze any longer. "Uh huh, perfectly fine."

Ichigo scoffed under his breath and reached for her arm. His long fingers closed like iron bands around her slender wrist before he lifted it from her side. The meager light penetrating the passage spilled over the cut running from wrist to elbow.

"Don't lie to me." He said, brushing his thumb against the edge of the jagged cut. Orihime flinched reflexively from both the sharp pain and his low tone.

She wiped at the trickle of blood with the hem of her shirt and dismissed the injury with a crooked smile. "It's just a small scratch." Orihime left off with her careless first aid and furrowed her brows at what sounded like Ichigo grinding his teeth.

Phooey, he was really angry this time.

Sighing, she glanced off to the side. Orihime knew she was only adding more tinder to the fire, but she felt the need to say it anyway. "You know, you don't always have to protect me. I can fight, too, Kurosaki-kun."

"I don't have to protect you." Ichigo carefully repeated her statement in a deceptively calm voice before pinching her chin between his fingers and turning her face him. "Are you saying you'd rather I let that hollow mangle you –possibly even kill you?" His façade of control melted away, leaving Ichigo practically trembling with rage as he curled his hands around her upper arms. "Like hell I'll ever let that happen!"

Before she even had a chance to calm his temper, his mouth crashed down against hers; his kiss was like heat lightening. Sizzling, tingling, burning. It raced through her, straight to her core, and had her mewling against his firm lips. Her shaky fingers reached up to sink into the front of his shihakusho. She held on tight as a tremor wracked her slender frame when his tongue plunged between her lips, searching and hungry.

Orihime pulled away with a breathless moan, her breath shuddered in and out. "That's not what I meant." She pressed a trembling hand to Ichigo's heaving chest, preventing him from manhandling her again while she finished her earlier argument with unexpected confidence. "I'm not completely helpless. I –I don't always need your help."

Ichigo grew still, barely breathing. With hooded eyes that gave away none of his thoughts, he studied her serious expression. The tips of his fingers brushed over her flushed cheek before raking through her long hair. He fisted his hand in the silken strands, holding her immobile, and murmured with just a hint of challenge coloring his tone. "We'll just have to see about that, now won't we?"

She wanted to ask what he meant but he swooped in for another punishing kiss before she could. It was harsh and bruising, angry and so very greedy. But she didn't fight him in any way. Instead, Orihime met him with eagerness and passion. She would let him take whatever he wanted from her, anything at all.

His hands slid around her waist and Ichigo pressed her body against his as his tongue glided deeper, tangling with hers. Orihime tilted her head submissively, allowing him full control of their kiss. She whimpered and returned his kiss as one possessed, rubbing her breasts against the hard wall of his chest without thought.

Ichigo pulled away from her plush lips with a groan and stared into her dazed eyes for only a moment before shoving her t-shirt up, exposing her softly rounded stomach and white lacy bra. The look in his eyes let Orihime clearly see what his intentions were before he roughly palmed her generous breasts.

Air hissed between her teeth as Orihime tossed her head, unconsciously struggling as Ichigo's large hands squeezed and kneaded her sensitive flesh. Frantic energy sizzled down the length of her spine and seared her all the way to her toes. She arched her back, thrusting her breasts more firmly into his hands with a pleasured moan.

He growled with obvious impatience and his calloused fingers scraped along the edge of her bra before he tugged the lacy cups down. Cool night-air brushed over her flushed skin, pebbling her nipples into tight little buds.

The alley was quiet. No words spoken. Only the sound of their ragged breathing broke the charged silence as they both stared at her naked heaving breasts.

Orihime licked her dry lips and her fingers curled into the wall at her back as she watched Ichigo's hands lift, ever so slowly –closer, almost touching. Her nipples were diamond hard and aching, and she shuddered in response, balanced on the knife's edge of anticipation –wanting. Until finally, his fingers closed possessively over the rosy tips and her breathy sigh of relief filtered through the darkness.

Her relief was short-lived as Ichigo began rolling and tugging on the sensitive tips. Her startled cry shattered the stillness of their secluded alley. His lips descended once more, silencing her and swallowing her cries. She fisted her hands in the loose fabric of his kimono as her back arched. She twisted from side to side, trying –at the same time to both encourage and escape his ruthless caresses.

She restlessly ran her hands over his chest and murmured against his lips when her fingers found a tempting slice of bare skin. Ichigo broke their heated kiss with a frustrated groan before he loosened his kimono and pulled his arms free, allowing the fabric to hang freely around his waist. Orihime stared in fascination, savoring the moment before lifting a trembling hand. Sighing, her eyes drifted shut at the feel of his muscled chest gliding under her greedy palm.

Caught up in her exploration, she didn't notice Ichigo lifting a breast to his mouth until he captured a pebbled nipple between his teeth. His tongue swirled over the tip before drawing her into his mouth. She tilted her head back and groaned from the exquisite pleasure of it all. She clutched at his bare shoulders, her fingers curling and uncurling against his skin as he treated her opposite breast to the same torment as the first.

His hand strayed down over her quivering stomach before inching up her knee length skirt to reveal white cotton panties. A lone finger traced over the red satin bow decorating the front before he cupped her mound and explored the dampness growing between her legs. Orihime cried out his name in shock and struggled to escape, but his strong muscled legs outside her own held her firmly in place.

Her protests whooshed from her lungs and her eyes grew impossibly huge as Ichigo slipped his hand into her panties and stroked his finger along her moist slit. He worked his fingers against her flesh before seeking and finding the tiny pearl of her femininity. Orihime spasmed at his firm touch and a needy groan spilled from her kiss bruised lips. The feel of his finger parting her folds before it thrust deep had her holding her breath, positive she would shatter. Orihime was like fine glass, resonating and vibrating. If he didn't stop, she was certain she'd die.

A second finger joined the first and her knees buckled. She whimpered at the overwhelming sense of fullness before involuntarily tightening around his intruding fingers, clinging, drawing him deeper. A deep visceral groan rumbled from Ichigo's throat and she could have sworn she heard him murmur against her breast, '_you asked for it',_ before he plunged forward, fucking her hard with his hand.

Her head snapped back and a keening cry rent the quiet of the night. Her breath heaved in and out of her tortured lungs and her breast pressed tightly against Ichigo's voracious mouth with each ragged inhale. She stretched up on her tiptoes and followed each movement of his plunging fingers, needing to be closer, wanting something more.

"Kurosaki-kun …p-please…"

Ichigo scraped his teeth over her tender nipple and he released it, his eyes glittering with satisfaction. He trailed hot, open mouth kisses over the curve of her breast and skimmed over the bunched material of her shirt to pay carefully attention to the pulse beating madly at the base of her throat. "Please what?"

Orihime bit back a pleading cry as the rhythmic motion between her legs slowed and his fingers retreated, leaving her throbbing, teetering on the very edge. Ichigo's punishment was too cruel. He couldn't do this to her. She shifted restlessly. She knew what he wanted. The only recourse left to her was to beg. "P-please …help me."

"Are you sure you want my help now?" He pulled back to see her expression, his lips curled into a cruel leer even as his hand dropped to tug the front straps of his hakama free. "You didn't want it earlier."

She nodded her head in desperation and sank her fingers into his messy hair before blindly seeking his lips. Ichigo's nails scored the skin of her hips as he yanked down her panties and she moaned against the hot glide of his tongue. So far lost in pleasure, Orihime didn't care as he ripped her underwear from her body and let it drop to the filthy ground. She just wanted him to help her.

She felt Ichigo's lips curve against her own as his hands cradled her naked ass and he lifted her high. Orihime held his face between her hands and sucked on his bottom lip, refusing to let go as he pulled away. She whimpered at the loss of his demanding lips, but was appeased when he gruffly directed her to wrap her legs around his narrow waist.

His hardness rubbed against her aching sex and she mindlessly undulated against him. So close now. His hands clamped over her hips and held her tight against him, allowing no movement, not even the tiniest little wiggle and her frustrated groan echoed off the alley walls. Orihime arched against the wall supporting her back and her fingers scrambled over the cracks in the concrete, searching for something to use as leverage. Did he not understand? She needed to move.

She knew she was struggling in vain against his punishing hold and quieted after a bit. He won't budge until he was ready. Trust Ichigo to be stubborn at the worst of times. Orihime panted softly and turned her face to the side, letting the cool dampness of the concrete soothe her overheated cheek, feeling as if her entire body was on fire. She gasped in surprise and her gaze flew to meet Ichigo's as his thick shaft throbbed and flexed against her in obvious impatience.

Ichigo watched her through narrowed eyes, his breathing deep and measured. "Do you really need me to help you?" he said mockingly and tilted his hips ever so slightly, allowing his rigid member to slide through her wet folds and over that tense quivering bundle of nerves –a taunt and a promise.

Orihime mewled in assent and clamped her thighs around him tighter, silently begging for him to do that to her again –and again. She was so close, nothing but a tightly wound spring. Ichigo could ask anything of her and she would immediately agree, just as long as he helped tip her over that glorious edge.

His long fingers dug into her hips with bruising force and his eyes hardened. Ichigo pinned her in place with a fierce glare. "Then don't do anything reckless like that –ever again. Do you understand me, Inoue? I can't stand to see you in any kind of danger."

Her heart pounded in her chest, beating a ragged rhythm as she stared deep into his wild eyes. They were burning with need and he stared down at her, unmoving. Ichigo was dead serious. She nodded her head slowly in agreement before arching, hoping to force him to move. But he held her steady. Orihime wondered at his continued silence before realizing he wanted the actual words, to hear her agree to his demands.

"Yes, Kurosaki-kun," She said readily, telling him exactly what he wanted to hear as she twined an arm around his neck. "I understand perfectly."

Even as he thrust forward with a harsh groan, burying himself in her clinging heat, Orihime knew she lied. She'd do the same, again.

Guilt and pleasure waged a vicious war inside her as he pounded into her willing body. Her body strained for the release only he could give while hot tears streamed from her eyes. This was all her fault. She pushed him to his breaking point again.

Ichigo crushed his lips against hers and swallowed her apologies. He never wanted to hear them, even though Orihime was certain he knew she sometimes did these reckless things just to make him lose control.

And later, after the pleasure died away, she'd wallow in regret, like she had so many times before.

**~o0o~**

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this little PWP flash fic. It's a thank you to everyone read and reviewed my Christmas fic. You all reminded me once again why I absolutely love writing for this fandom.

Thanks again for all your wonderful support. ~Rairakku


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